Chance
by skyperson9
Summary: Attending an ex's wedding may not be entirely unpleasant. A fluffy Sherlolly story. :D
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey there! Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and new year :)**

Molly tried her best to calm her rapidly beating heart. She was currently crouching behind a wall, her back flat against it as she struggled to catch her breath.

In the distance she could hear her pursuer's footsteps and that forced her to act. She broke into a dead run towards her lab.

 _Please don't follow me,_ was all she could think.

Honestly how did she end up in this situation?

Ah! Yes. The answer was not a simple one. Rather it was a chain of irritating events that had led her to this horrible fate.

First of all, her alarm had failed to wake her up, yet again. She was definitely going to throw that stupid thing out of the window. She had had to hurriedly make herself a cup of coffee as she threw some clothes on. Then, Toby, that lazy cat, had to be all active that morning caused to her trip and the pour her coffee on the carpet. Being the cheerful person that she was, she had thought 'It's okay, I'll just drink some orange juice.' But of course, guess what was there when she opened her fridge? Nothing. Bloody nothing. Not even milk.

That was the end of the last few scrapes of cheerfulness in her. She had yelled a few choice curse words (which she was sure her landlord must have heard) and just stormed out of her flat and almost fell down the stairs in her rush.

She had been running so late that she couldn't even stop on the way to buy a sandwich or coffee.

Molly should have immediately gone to the canteen and brought something. Alas, Greg was waiting for her with a case and the body needed to be autopsied that very instant. She had to delve into the special reserve of patience which she kept handy in case she met a bored and annoyed Sherlock Holmes, to stop from being rude to Greg.

By the time she was finished her stomach was growling like a caged monster. And shushing it hadn't worked so far. She knew that she had to face the inevitable.

Going to the canteen at regular hours.

Sighing she had washed her hands and had tried to be positive.

However all positive thoughts went down the drain as soon as she saw Emma head her way with an all too bright fake smile.

You see this was what Molly had been trying to avoid. Going to the canteen at regular hours would definitely mean she would run into Emma.

Despite knowing that it was juvenile, she had grabbed her muffin and retreated as fast as she could from the canteen. But to her horror, she saw Emma give a chase and that was why she was now currently running to the lab.

As soon as she was at the door, she looked behind to see if she was still being followed.

Damn!

She could still hear her heels click against the linoleum floor.

Molly ducked into the lab and groaned at the sight before her.

What did she do to deserve this?

The great consulting detective was there at his favorite microscope prodding one slide or another.

A quick glance behind showed that her pursuer was steps away from the lab door and she decided that she couldn't think about him now. Without wasting a moment she ducked behind one of the desks.

 _Shouldn't I warn him?_ She thought as she crouched under the desk, trying her best to stay out of sight.

 _You keep forgetting! Sherlock's not normal. He probably didn't even notice you get in and hide under a desk like a five year old._

Hmm….That gave her some comfort. He hadn't even lifted his head when she had entered, absorbed in his work. Also the chances of Emma asking Sherlock about her whereabouts were slim to none. Everybody in this hospital was scared of him, she wouldn't dare.

Her line of thoughts were broken when she heard the door open. The click of Emma's heel filled the roam and Molly's heart was in her throat. For a moment there was no noise, she assumed Emma was looking around. And then to her relief she heard her head to towards the door.

"If you are looking for Molly she is hiding behind the desk."

Oh! My God. She was going to murder him. Murder him in such a way that not even he would be able to trace the murder back to her.

But now that the cat was out of the bag or rather Molly was out of her hiding place she decided to just suck it up.

"Oh! Hey, Emma" she said with a fake cheerful smile as she emerged from behind the desk with a pen in her hand which she had snatched out of her pocket.

"Sherlock's just joking, my pen just fell down" she said, lamely.

"Actually" the insufferable git opened his mouth, but Molly shut him down with a glare that would freeze hell.

Emma looked between them for a moment and then shrugged.

"Molly! Why haven't you been answering your phone or replying to my emails" she complained.

 _I'm avoiding you, duh!_ She wanted to tell but then sadly she wasn't rude.

"I've been quite busy actually." Sherlock snorted at that.

His death would be painful.

"Well I'm glad I caught up with you. You must obviously know that I'm getting married. I wanted to personally invite you to the wedding."

There it was. The invitation she had been dreading and avoiding like the plague. And it was personal too. Emma was making sure that she would have to attend the wedding. Why couldn't Molly be a bad person?

Her shoulders hunched in defeat, just as Emma grinned like a Cheshire cat in victory.

"I'll be there."

"Wonderful." After chattering something about how excited she was, she took her leave. Not before saying, " Now excuse me, I have a meeting with my fiancé" and made a show of looking at her engagement ring before leaving the room.

"What is wrong with you?" Molly yelled the moment, Emma was out of earshot.

The consulting looked around and asked in confusion, "Are you talking to me?"

"Of course I'm bloody talking to you. Why did you tell her I was behind the desk?"

"I deduced that she was looking for you" he said simply, before returning to his slide.

"And you decided that it was the perfect moment to start being nice and helpful?" she was fuming now.

"Honestly, Molly. I know that being at weddings makes you sad as it reminds you that you are not attached to a moron for life, blissfully happy with a bunch of kids, but still you attend them anyway. Why are you so worked up?"

"She's marrying Tom" she said quietly.

Molly had heard from John about Sherlock's buffering face, but despite the tense situation it was quite funny to actually watch him. He was blinking rapidly, but it looked like he was fluttering his lashes at her.

After about a six minutes he looked normal again.

"Oh!" That was all he said.

"'Oh!'? Is that all you have to say for putting me in this situation? I had been successfully avoiding Emma for weeks. She wanted to rub it on my face so bad that she has Tom. Once, she was even at my flat. I had to be quite until she got tired of buzzing the intercom. And now, you spoiled it all. If I don't go, she'll spin up a story in which I could star as the distressed woman who is still pinning over her ex and even if I do show up, I have to endure her attempts to make me jealous."

Sherlock seemed to be searching for something to tell. She really hoped for his sake that he told something nice.

"Well, now there's nothing you can do about it. Looks like you just accepted to endure it. Hand me that fungal sample I was working on."

Molly didn't know what took over her. One moment she was vibrating with anger and the next she was deathly still and was face to face with the detective (the fact that he was sitting helped).

"Listen here, Sherlock Holmes. Since you" she poked his chest with her finger "put me in this situation, it's only fair that you endure it with me."

She didn't (couldn't) miss the fact that he inhaled sharply when she touched him.

"You _will_ be taking me to the wedding."

And with that she leant back (the close proximity was making her go light headed a bit) and walked out of the lab.

 **AN: :D Hope you liked it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Hey there! Glad to see you people like this story. So here's more. Enjoy! :)**

It looked like the day was going to be a day of hiding.

As soon as she had exited the lab, Molly made a quick dash to the stairs so as to get into the sanctuary of her morgue. She didn't even wait to see if Sherlock was following her.

What she had asked (she had no idea why it had come out like a demand) was so much out of the line. Since his return from the dead their relationship had been rocky at best. Not to mention her engagement, his fake engagement and of course the drugs. And the icing on top of the cake had been Moriarty's alleged return.

It had turned out to be Jim's (James, her mind supplied) henchman Sebastian Moran. After the case was solved things returned to normal, well as normal as it could be with Sherlock. They were back to being friends, minus Molly's stuttering. It was pretty good, but then she had to ruin it all.

Now all she could hope was Sherlock would ignore whatever happened in the lab. Hopefully he went into his mind palace right at the moment she had decided to stupidly ask him take her to Tom's wedding. Sherlock still had the ability to tear her into pieces and she didn't what him to do exactly that when he will tell her that he wouldn't take her to the wedding.

Molly sighed in relief as she saw the morgue doors looming ahead. She burst into the room and locked the door behind her. She knew she was being stupid but she really wasn't ready to face the consequences and anyway she had work to do at the morgue.

Brimming with self-denial, she headed towards the cadaver that was ready for her to reveal the secrets it held. She smiled. At last, something was happening in her favor. But the smile disappeared as soon as she realized that all the case related files were in the lab.

"Shit."

She slumped into a nearby chair. She considered her odds of running into Sherlock.

If he hadn't yet banged the morgue door apart, surely he didn't want to see her?

She didn't know what was sadder, Sherlock finding her and putting her in her place or him not even wanting to see her. That thought made her even more depressed.

But she had her job to do. Deciding to brave it she went to get those files. Not before making a pot of coffee which somehow took half an hour. Seriously, she had to tell Mike to get her a better coffee maker.

Molly really didn't want to but she peeked into the lab through the glass on the door. If someone saw her it would look ridiculous. She standing on tip toes (the glass was so much higher that she expected) into her own lab. If she saw Sherlock she would call it a tactical retreat. But then the lab was empty.

Her stomach dropped and her shoulders slumped even more.

The day then seemed to pass in a haze. She had no idea how one moment she was elbow deep into Mr. Richard Henry's body and the next she was back at her apartment.

"Hello, Toby" she called out to her cat who barely opened one of his eyes to acknowledge her as he lay curled up on the sofa.

"So much for all the affection you garnered upon me in the morning" she muttered as she threw her handbag on the chair and shucked off her coat.

And that reminded her of the mess on the carpet. With a heavy sigh she went about cleaning the stain from the carpet.

 _Ding._

Another message. Eleventh to be precise. When her phone had produced that sound the first time Molly had had to upend her the entire contents of her handbag to find her phone. The moment she saw the sender she put dropped it as though it had burned her. It had been Sherlock. There was no way she was going to see what he had to say (shout?).

After eating a reheated lasagna from the previous day, Molly decided to call it a night. The day that been a nightmare and she really wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

Yet again to prove that it was truly not her day, the doorbell rang right after she was all comfy.

Oh! Man. She groaned.

She had no idea who it would be and she really didn't want to know. She hoped they'd just go away but Molly being Molly didn't want to be rude.

Dragging herself out of her bed she went to the door and opened it without even bothering to check who it was.

She really shouldn't have been surprised. Everything was going against her after all.

"Why didn't you just pick the lock like you always do?" she asked to the curly haired, high cheek boned, impossible eyed, six feet of utter perfection aka Sherlock Holmes.

"You were avoiding me. I was respecting your wishes" he said. When she looked harder at him he caved. "Also Mary might have advised against it."

Hmmm…she must thank Mary.

But back to the matter at hand. No matter how much she denied it, Sherlock was here and he wanted to talk about what had happened in the morning.

"Look Sherlock" she started but was cut off by his baritone.

"I don't have much time, Molly. Lestrade is waiting for me at the station, a possible nine he says" he said with glee. "So here" he said and Molly noticed for the first time the box he held in his hand.

"What is this?" she asked in confusion. The box was a rich cream in color and was nondescript.

"It's a dress" he said and if it were someone else she would be sure that the tone was shy. But this was the world's only consulting detective.

When the look of confusion didn't leave her face she sighed.

"For the wedding."

"You are taking me to the wedding?" she asked in shock, her voice all squeaky.

"Oh! Do keep up, Molly. You did ask, no demanded I should say" he smirked at that "that I take you."

"Okay…Why did you buy a dress?"

"Um…Uh…Mary told me it's a social thing. Now I have to go. Goodbye."

And with that he was gone in a swish of his coat, leaving Molly standing at the door, a box in a hand and jaw hung open.

She stood there for a solid minute before shaking her head and getting back into her flat.

It didn't go as she had expected. Sherlock didn't get offended or anything. He was okay with taking her to the wedding. So everything had turned out to be quite alright.

Phew.

She eyed the box which was currently resting on the coffee table.

But she decided to check her messages first, now that she wasn't scared. There were ten from Sherlock all different variations of him asking her to text him back. But it was the newest one that caught her attention. It was from Mary and it caused her to smile so much that her cheeks began to hurt.

I had nothing to do with the dress. ;)

-MW

 **AN: Hope you liked this.**


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Aww! You people are so supportive. Thank you! Sorry for the wait. :)_

 _Okay, I need to calm down_ , Molly thought.

This was her fifth attempt at trying to apply mascara and her hands were shaking so badly that she had narrowly missed poking her eye. Placing the mascara back on her dressing table, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It seemed to help a bit.

But when she opened her eyes, she caught the reflection of THE dress in the mirror and it was enough to fill her stomach with tons of butterflies. She immediately shut her eyes again.

 _Oh! God. What am I going to do?_

After reading Mary's text she had been on cloud nine. Her thoughts took flight in all sort of direction. What could it mean? Was he interested in her? Were her prayers being answered?

She literally skipped towards the box which Sherlock had given her and eagerly opened it. She picked the dress carefully and held it out.

Immediately, hers eyes grew wide and her mouth hung open.

 _Wow!_

The dress was more art than a piece of clothing.

It was made of sheer silk, so soft and smooth that it seemed to be slipping from her hand. It would come up till her knee. It had a sweet heart neckline and was sleeveless. But all this she would register later. What made her jaw unhinge from her face was Sherlock's choice of color.

It was yellow.

A shade of yellow that brings back the memory of warm and happy summers.

It both worried and made her want to shout in joy. She had worn the same color on the Watson's wedding. Did he choose it because it looked good on her or was it an experiment that he was performing on Tom? With Sherlock you never know. Also why did he even buy her a dress? Was he trying to say something? Was that something a hidden jab about her fashion sense? All these questions were making her nervous and her head swim.

She was jerked out of her thoughts by the sound of an incoming text.

It was Sherlock.

10.00

-SH

She laughed at that. He was so lazy/cryptic, he hadn't even bothered to type 'will pick you at'. Then her mind caught up with the time he had mentioned.

Shit!

She had to hurry up. Tossing her phone on the bed, she looked at the Mascara bottle and grabbed it determinately.

/-/-/-/-/-/

"Sherlock?" Mary called out as she entered the flat. She was here to keep her promise to John. That was, to make sure Sherlock didn't chicken out from this 'date' with Molly. She even had his blessings (not that she needed them) to use her assassin skills to make him go. So, soon after Lizzy was dressed and fed she had taken a cab to Baker's St. Mrs. Hudson, ever the doting grandmother, had taken Lizzy from her as soon as she saw them at her door.

"In here" came a muffled reply from the bedroom.

Mary had been fully expecting the consulting detective to be nervous and to be in second thoughts. But what she saw made her jaw hang open.

Sitting on the bed was Sherlock Holmes, surrounded by a mass of suits and various other costumes. Wait, was that a fire fighter uniform? It looked like his closet had exploded all around him.

He was looking ridiculously like a lost young boy, his hair all a mess caused by fingers run through them in frustration.

"What happened here?" Mary asked when she recovered enough to speak.

"I was searching for something acceptable to wear and this" he flapped his hands around "just sort of happened."

Mary burst out laughing. He just needed to say 'I have nothing to wear' to sound like a teenage girl.

Sherlock gave her a withering look.

"Not to worry. I knew something like this was going to happen. Hence, I asked Anthea to get you an Armani. She'll be here in a five minutes."

Hearing this he simply nodded and began to pace in that tiny space.

"Have you told Molly at what time you'll pick her up?"

"Mmm…I must have sent a text." Just to be sure she picked up his phone and made sure that he had.

She watched him pace for a few moments. He was clearly terrified about this 'date'. This could be one of those opportunities to wheedle out details from him and also the added bonus of making the world's only consulting detective uncomfortable.

"Why? Mary asked.

"Why what?"

"Why are you taking Molly to the wedding?"

"Because she asked me to" he said, rolling his eyes and continuing to pace. "She more like demanded."

"John has demanded, ordered, begged and sometimes even used physical violence to make you get the milk and not once have you listened to him, an ex-army man. And Molly, some hundred and ten pound wouldn't hurt a fly kind of girl, asked you to take her and you agreed?" She did her best to sound incredulous and yet try to not laugh at Sherlock's reddening ears.

He finally stopped pacing and looked at her.

"Well, Molly has been a friend to me and as you know she helped me in so many ways during The Fall. So I'm helping a friend."

"Fibbing."

"Damn."

"Now let's hear the truth."

"Fine. I think I must have developed…feelings" he had a hard time saying that word without making a face "for Molly when I was away tearing down Moriarty's network."

Mary leant forward, resting her chin on her hands and listened intently.

"When I came back, I had intended to take our relationship forward but then she had already moved on with that meat dagger" he sneered. She could sympathize with that. Tom wasn't the brightest of chaps and Molly could definitely do so much better, like Sherlock for instance.

"And when I learnt she had ended things with him, the Magnussen case happened. When all of it died down I had thought Molly would have found someone or worse someone would find her by then. But thankfully that didn't happen." He smirked.

"Since then I've been trying to bring myself to 'ask her out'. One day I finally managed to ask if she wanted to go out for coffee."

Wow! That was news. How come Molly hadn't her told her anything about that?

"But then she somehow assumed I didn't like the coffee she made and got offended and threw me out of the lab."

Mary remembered Molly telling her something similar about her asking Sherlock out for coffee and he asking her to bring it up to lab. Oh! God. These two were forever misunderstanding.

Sherlock went on.

"That day I was going to attempt again, this time to carefully construct my words but then the opportunity presented itself. I deduced that the bride-to-be was inviting Molly solely for the purpose of trying to make her jealous. So I took the chance and gave away her hiding spot, which was quite good by the way. Molly being Molly would definitely go and I was going to casually offer to take her but them she herself demanded that I do so." Now he was grinning.

But then his smile dropped. "But there are risks to this particular endeavor. All these years there has always been a 'What if?' in our relationship. But Molly may not want me anymore. Or even if we do move ahead in our relationship I'm bound to do something wrong and ruin it."

He sat heavily on the bed next to Mary.

"Sherlock, seriously, she has known you for so long. Seen you at your best and at your worst. If she hasn't runaway screaming yet (bless her for that), then she never will. Besides, she's still in love with you" she said with a grin. The detective's face immediately brighten on hearing that.

"I know" he sat up straighter and became his haughty self again.

Right then her phone pinged.

"It's Anthea. She's here."

"Now excuse me. I'm going to sweep Molly off her feet." And with that Sherlock marched out the room.

AN: Let me know what ya think! ;)


	4. Chapter 4

It's quite weird that we are mostly not aware of the breaths that we take. Only at the quietest of times we are aware of our lungs expanding and taking in a tiny, less than microscopically small, part of the cosmos into ourselves, absorb the life sustaining oxygen and give back what does not belong to us.

It was one such quiet times and Molly let herself feel each breathe that she was taking. It was that or run around the house in COMPLETE PANIC.

She had finished getting ready a few seconds ago. Only when she looked at the clock did she realize that she had more than five minutes until Sherlock would be there to pick her up. Immediately her mind had begun to conjure various scenarios most of which consisted of her being stood up at best and she had had to question her sanity about the worst. It was ridiculous. Really.

Sherlock had texted her saying her that he would be there and he had even bought her a dress for god's sake. Why? She didn't know. A source of further confusion. But he had, hadn't he? He will be here in a few minutes. Or would he?

"Oh! God. I am going mad" she moaned as she sat heavily on her couch. She was contemplating the benefits of drinking a calming glass of wine or downing the entire bottle when her phone began to ring. It was Mary.

"Please don't tell me he's got a case." It would totally be her luck. The consulting detective getting a ten just that instant, making her go to the wedding alone.

She heard Mary laugh loudly. "No, no. Relax will you. I'm just calling to tell you that he's on his way."

"Thank god!" she said with a huge sigh of relief.

"I knew you would be over thinking this. Deep breathes, Molly. Anyway. I got to go."

"Yeah! Okay. Give Lizzy a kiss from me, alright?"

"Sure love. And Molly?"

"Yes?"

"Enjoy" Mary leered making Molly blush. And of course, making her smile like an idiot.

/-/-/-/-/

"Sir?"

Sherlock was broken from his train of thoughts by the cab driver. It looked like the cabbie had been trying to get his attention for some time now.

"We are here."

What? Here? Already? But hadn't he just hired the cab? He looked out the window and he could see Molly's apartment.

Oh! Well. Knowing that he couldn't stall anymore he paid the cabbie and got out of the cab.

Sherlock didn't bother buzzing the intercom since he had pick pocketed both the keys from Molly. As he climbed the stairs he came up with forty-seven reasons about why this was a very bad idea. But a very selfish side of him refused to just turn around and make a run for it. He had let too many opportunities slide past him.

Before he knew it he was standing in front of her flat.

He reached for the keys in his pocket but the memory of Mary smacking him on his head when he had told her about using Molly's keys kept him from actually using it.

Gulping he knocked on the door.

As soon as the door opened the huge gulp of air he had taken rushed out of him in a whoosh.

Standing in front of him with a small smile adorning her lip was the most beautiful woman he had seen in his entire life. She had let her hair down and had applied just enough make up to bring out her eyes.

Sherlock realized that he was just staring so he cleared his throat.

"You…Um…You look good." The small smile widened into a grin and her eyes twinkled at his attempt to compliment her. It also distracted her from her own ogling. Molly was glad that she her hand was placed on the wall because the sight of Sherlock in his extremely snug fitting (read: buttons straining) suit was making her knees go weak.

"Thank you, Sherlock" she said blushing. "You have a nice taste in clothing" she said motioning to the dress he had bought her. He truly did. The dress was made of soft yellow lace weaving in and out to make intricate patterns that made Molly look very elegant which was quite a feat. It was cap sleeved and had an empire waist. It fell just short of her knees. Her blush deepened when she remembered that it fit her perfectly.

'Ha! Molly would look beautiful wearing anything' Sherlock thought. Even in her hideous jumpers she managed to make heads turn much to his dislike.

It was after one particularly satisfying case, he had been walking back to Bakers street, that this dress had caught his attention on the display. The color had immediately reminded him of Molly and the agony of watching her with another man.

His life had been just about the work. The cases which gave his whirring brain something to occupy itself with. Just the never ending cases, a sea of black and white.

But when he had begun working with Molly, color started to seep into his life. He wasn't a huge fan of such poetic comparisons but it was the truth. Her compassion and kindness was infectious. He noticed that he had begun taking the feelings of clients into consideration. Well, at least some of them. His heart, the very one which he denied to not possess, began to beat again, began to yearn for her presence. The warmth that she radiated.

But he had no room for feelings. Love, yes love, was found on the losing side. He had been rude to her, tried to push her away with his insults aimed at her insecurities.

Despite all his attempts to distance her from him, Molly continued to help him. It was just the way she was.

But the Fall had changed his perspective. Moriarty had been right about one thing though. Sherlock was ordinary. At the face of death his life did flash in front of his eyes. The moment he took the leap, with his chances of surviving not promising, his only regret had been Molly. That had to change.

When he returned to the world of the living, intent on making things work, she had already moved on. But one look at meat dagger and he knew that it was her desperate attempt at normalcy. He hadn't wanted to take that away. He just wanted her to be happy.

Fate, not that he believed in it, offered him another chance when she broke up with Tom. But what with his fake engagement and the Magnussen business he was unable to do anything.

Now, looking at her, he was glad that he took the chance and hadn't chickened out.

"Shall we?" he asked offering her his arm. Molly was taken aback. She knew that he held out doors for her and performed other gentlemanly actions when they were at the lab but she had chalked it up to him trying to mollify her to get something done.

"Mummy raised me to be a gentleman". He said with a sniff.

"Of course" she said with a giggle and took his arm. A thrill running through their bodies at the innocent contact.

Mycroft had sent a car which was waiting for them. Sherlock opened the door for Molly, making her beam at him. When they were settled the car began to make its journey towards their destination.

Molly tried to sneak a glance at Sherlock. She ducked her head quickly back down when she saw that he was already looking at her.

Why had she been dreading this anyway? She thought with a wide grin.

 **AN: Your suggestions on what the next course of action should be are welcome! :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hello! Sorry it took me so long to post. I had no idea how to proceed. Hope you like what I have come up with. :)**

The car ride to the church had been wonderful. Sherlock and Molly never ran out of topics for conversation. Yet somehow, the talking ceased after sometime. The silence was charged with some unnamed thing. At one point Molly could swear that the consulting detective had made the 'Sherlock equivalent' of goo-goo eyes at her, turning her into a puddle of mush. Then started the game of sneaking glances at one another when the other wasn't looking. Molly had to constantly pinch herself to make sure that this wasn't a dream.

Sherlock continued to be a perfect gentleman, opening the car door for her and offering her his hand to help her get down. Much to her joy, he continued to hold her hand as they headed towards the ceremony.

She had to give it to Emma. The decorations were excellent, almost magical. Flowers of all kinds were either strung up on rich ribbons or bunched up in beautiful bouquets. The crowd was pretty sizable too. She was amazed by the amount of people Tom and Emma knew.

Her heart sank a little when a chaperon showed them their seats. Looked like Emma wanted Molly to have a good look at the ceremony. Some people, who would definitely not be the bride, were really the hand holding hand to stop as they made their way to the seats and Molly sure as hell didn't have to guts to initiate contact. But they continued their game of peeking which put her heart right back on the ninth cloud.

The ceremony itself was over in a flash. She hadn't realized but Molly had been dreading the moment Tom would say 'I do'. After all they had once planned to say the words to each other. But there was no hard feelings. Tom was a good guy and it made her happy to see him happy.

"Are you bored?" Molly whispered during the best man's speech.

"I will be after I finish deducing the remaining hundred guests" Sherlock said barely moving his lips.

"Good" she whispered back.

She had been expecting Sherlock to be difficult, at least make a few people including herself cry, but he was behaving himself. It was going well too, Molly had managed to not bump into Tom's parents or any of his friends who she had met when they had been engaged.

Soon it was time to congratulate the newlyweds. She really wasn't looking forward to it. Emma was sure to rub it in her face even though it would be of no effect. But still. Looking at the crowd this big it was bound to take some time, she hoped to slip out without being noticed. But just her luck.

"Molly" the bride's shrill cry made her jump a little as Emma came straight to her, dragging a slightly unsure Tom behind her.

"Emma" she said, plastering a big smile.

"You made it." She seemed genuinely shocked yet thrilled.

"Uh…yes. Congratulations." She smiled sincerely at Tom.

"Thank you, Molly" Tom said.

Emma linked her hand with Tom's. "I thought you were bringing a date. Is it Catherine?" She made a show of looking around. "Or are you alone? I know how difficult it is for you find dates."

Molly blushed furiously. She opened her mouth to answer but a smooth baritone cut her.

"Actually, I am her date" Sherlock said, looking so much hotter than James Bond can ever dream to be. "Sorry love" he said handing her a cocktail and giving her a little peck on her cheek. "Bit of a rush at the bar."

Love? Did Sherlock just call her love and give her a kiss? Oh! God. She was going to pass out.

"Sherlock Holmes" Tom said curtly. After all the detective was the reason why he and Molly hadn't worked out.

"Ah! Tom. Congratulations" Sherlock said. He really was glad that Tom married someone else.

All the while the bride's face looked like she had tasted something horrible and sputtered as she attempted to say something.

"It was good seeing you. We better be going. See you later" the groom said and dragged his shocked wife along with him.

Molly and Sherlock grinned at each other. Emma's plan had been foiled.

"Shall we leave?" Molly asked as she finished her drink.

"Not yet."

"Why not?"

"I have another fifty to deduce."

"Sherlock you can deduce people on the way home" she whined. Frankly, this had gone so much better than expected but she really wanted to leave.

"Molly there hasn't been a single interesting person in this big crowd. Just a few affairs here and there. Seriously all the good people in the world are present" he said in disgust. "But that man" he said pointing to a really tall mean looking guy "could be the jackpot."

"Then deduce him so we can leave."

He scoffed at her. "No."

"Fine" she huffed and sat next to him.

When Sherlock was deducing the thirtieth person, an old lady with a shockingly scandalous past, faint strains of music began to float into the room.

She wasn't sure but she thought she heard Sherlock mutter 'about time'.

It was quite a wonderful idea to have the band play outside. The sun was just below the horizon, creating a fairy tale setting for the newlyweds first dance.

Emma was a good dancer, Tom definitely wasn't. But together their dance was very sweet and endearing, earning a lot of aww's and coos from the crowd. When their dance was over, the dance floor was taken over by eager couples. The band and the DJ were switching back and forth between classics and modern hits.

Sherlock looked at the woman standing next to him. She had always looked beautiful to him, but today she was even more so. She looked like only those fairies in the woods that his parents read to him as a child. He watched as she sang along with the lyrics and tapped her foot in time with the beats. He didn't deserve her, but thank god, he was selfish.

"Molly, will you dance with me?"

Her face broke into a huge smile as she took his offered hand. "I would love to" she said.

'What makes you beautiful' by one direction was being played as they made their way to the dance floor. Sherlock hadn't listened to this song, modern music wasn't his thing. But the lyrics to this song felt like it had been written for Molly.

Molly was in awe. If she had thought Sherlock was sexy before, she had no words for what she thought about him now. Good Lord! Could he dance. All she wanted to do was look. Soon, too soon the song ended and morphed into a slow one.

Sherlock put his hands on Molly's waist and Molly hesitantly placed her hands on his shoulders.

"This is nice" she said, as they swayed to the music.

"Yes, it is." His voice had become low and deep making her shiver a bit. The sun had by now, bid adieu unveiling the starry sky. Candles had been lit and placed on almost every surface available. They might look like fireflies from a distance.

"I have a confession to make" the detective said all of a sudden.

"Is it the fact that you lied about deducing people so that you could get a dance with me, Mr. Holmes?" Molly asked with a sly smile. Where was the confidence coming from, she had no idea. Maybe it was the way Sherlock was looking at her.

"Miss Hooper, your powers of observation are impressive. Though you are absolutely right about my little scheme, the confession wasn't about that" he said, grinning wickedly making Molly laugh.

"Do go on then" she said. He hesitated a bit and took a deep breath

"I gave away your hideaway to Emma that day, knowing full well that she would invite you. If you hadn't threatened me to take you to the wedding I would have offered to take you anyway."

'Can't fight this feeling' started playing as Sherlock went on.

"Molly, the recent incidents in my life have altered my perceptive to certain things. The only regret I had when I boarded that plane to certain death was you. I have always kept you at arm's length, mostly pushing you away. But you are always there expecting nothing in return. I always thought sentiment was a weakness, have solved too many cases where it was found on the losing side. And yet, it was that sentiment that saved my life. I have feelings for you and I have been in denial. It has brought me nothing but regret. It is time I admit that I love you."

Molly Hooper stared wide eyed at the consulting detective. The only thoughts in her head was 'please let this not be a dream' playing on loop. She had never in a million years had thought Sherlock Holmes would utter the words 'I love you' and never in a trillion years that she would be the recipient. But here he was saying those impossible words to her. That is when the water works started. Tears began to stream down her cheeks.

"Is it something I said? Did I insult you somehow? Why are you crying?" Sherlock asked in confusion. Had he read the signs wrong? Her pulse was elevated when they were holding hands and her pupils were definitely dilated when they were dancing. She still had feelings for him.

"No no" Molly said between sobs. "These are happy tears."

"Does that mean its okay to kiss you?" he asked suddenly very shy.

She simply pulled him down by his lapels and kissed him.

Kissing the only consulting detective had always been a dream. She had imagined it so many times and so many ways. Yet, nothing could even come close to the real thing. He might look cold and aloof but he was very warm. He was the warmth that she had been missing.

When they parted, Molly looked into his eyes and whispered "I love you too".

"I know" he said with a boyish grin that made her heart flutter.

The music had changed to a faster beat yet they continued to sway basking in the joy of simply being together.

And together they would be for many a day to come.

 **AN: Thank you for your support! You guys are the best. :D let me know what you think.**


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